


Kids

by orphan_account



Series: platonic shit [1]
Category: The Pack (Minecraft)
Genre: Fluff, I wrote this in an hour, ft. personal worries, he's sixteen soon tho dw, it is fluff, it's not a love story, lachlan is fifteen, lol i suck, platonic wooflan, rob and lachlan are cousins, rob is eighteen, that's all it is, this is literally just me after being mentally unable to add to the fic I'm currently working on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:55:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lachlan is fifteen. Rob is eighteen. They're just kids.</p><p>(and also cousins.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kids

**Author's Note:**

> Started with this. Thank you spoopy-poofless-perfection for making this possible.

"Wear your helmet, Lachlan!"

"Why does she always say that," Lachlan grumbles as they turn the corner, hanging his helmet over the handle of his bike.

Rob chuckles next to him, his own helmet firmly on his head. "Probably because you never do. You really should, you know; you don't know when you're gonna have a nasty fall, and then where would you be?"

"But Rob," Lachlan pouts, coasting down the slight slope of the road to the beach. "It makes my hair stick to my head."

"But at least you have a head left for it to stick to. If you hit something or fall off you could get really hurt."

"Nah, come off it."

Rob can see the slowly growing worry in Lachlan's face though and bites back a smirk.

"You wouldn't be able to ride your bike or play any games. You'd not be able to say which beautiful pastel shirt you want to wear today."

"Rob—"

Rob pushes it further.

"And you wouldn't be able to style your own hair. Your mom would have to do it for you. What would you do then, Lachlan? There's a strand sticking up and your mom hasn't noticed. You can't tell her, can't reach up to fix it yourself, can't do anything to get it back into place. All you can do is watch it in horror as it slowly descends—"

"Fine! Fine, I'll wear my bloody helmet."

"Don't swear," Rob reminds him as Lachlan rams the helmet onto his head, crushing his carefully styled hair.

"Piss off."

"Fine then, I will."

And with that, Rob turns, pedals back a few meters and coasts down the steeper path through the trees to the sea front, the one Lachlan isn't brave enough to take, the ground full of roots and stumps and other things a bike could break on. He ignores the calls of his name until he reaches the sand and Lachlan's voice is higher, a tell tale sign of his panic, before hopping off of his bike and locking it to the nearest fence post. He waves enthusiastically with both hands at Lachlan, who is riding down the winding path designed for people to walk down on safely and even at this distance he can spot the scowl on his face. As he gets closer, though, the fear becomes more prominent and when Lachlan finally abandons his bike on the sand that clings to its wheels, he drops the smug smile for a softer one, knowing Lachlan isn't really mad at him and is only worried about him getting hurt. He pulls Lachlan into an apologetic hug, noting how tall his cousin is getting, nearly the same height as himself now. He hopes with his entire being that Lachlan never ends up taller than him.

_(His prayers are ignored)_

He buys Lachlan an ice cream from the blue kiosk ("—because it's the same colour as your eyes.") and gets one for himself too, never one to turn down anything with strawberry sauce on it, and the two of them wander along the coast line, licking their ice creams as the sea breeze ruffles Lachlan's already ruined hair. Rob refrains from teasing him about it; it's been a few weeks since he's seen Lachlan and he doesn't want to spend the whole day making fun of the younger boy. Not going to be young for much longer, he remembers, realising it's Lachlan's birthday soon. Rob already bought his present, the perfect thing for a teenage boy: something offensive that his parents will resent Rob for getting him.

"Hey," he says quietly when Lachlan is crunching up the cone, always faster at eating than Rob is. Lachlan looks up at him with a curious hum. "You're gonna be sixteen in a few weeks. You excited?"

Lachlan's shoulders droop and Rob immediately knows he's done the wrong thing bringing it up.

"Something wrong, bud?"

"No, I just—"

"Lachlan." Rob fixes him with a look. "Don't lie to me. I'm only a couple of years older than you, I'm a good person to talk to about this stuff."

Lachlan plays with his neck chain uncomfortably. "I don't know, I just…everybody keeps talking about how I'm growing up and I'm not a kid anymore, but like, I still feel so young. I always thought when you grew up you just felt way more confident about everything and did stuff right but I still feel like the exact same person I was last year, and the year before that, and the year before that and I don't know. I'm just. Scared. I guess."

Lachlan is hunching over, voice growing thicker, so Rob wraps an arm around him and pulls him in close, walking him over to sit on one of the sand dunes facing the sea. He unwraps the paper napkin from around his ice cream cone and offers it to Lachlan.

"Here you go, buddy."

Lachlan takes it wordlessly. Rob puts his free hand behind him and leans back, looking out at the ocean, the sun glimmering over it. The birds screech for attention but, as always, are ignored.

"I know how you feel, Lachy."

"No you don't." Lachlan's words are muffled against the makeshift tissue.

"Yes I do—"

" _No,_ you don't, Rob. You've always had it all figured out and known what to do and what to say and how to treat me, and you never pushed me too far and you always put me before you and were just a good person, are a good person and _I_ want to be a good person. I want someone to think of me and think, 'yeah, Lachlan's a really good guy', you know?"

"I do know, Lachlan, because I had all those thoughts when I was growing up, and I still have them now, today, because I may be legally an adult but I'm still just a kid, myself. There are times when I have no idea what to do or what to say, and there are definitely times when I'm not a good person, but that's because I'm only human. Nobody can be a good person all the time, and people may say you're growing up, Lachy, but you'll still be a kid all through your teens, way into your twenties, because whenever you're at a point where you're nervous, or scared, or facing something you don't understand, you're just a kid again. I'm a kid, and I've been a kid every day of my life, and you will be too, no matter what anyone tells you. So don't worry about growing up, because if you're anything like me, it won't be happening any time soon. Now, come on. No more tears from those pretty blue eyes."

Lachlan snuffles a laugh into his tissue, and Rob smiles at him, before looking down at the half eaten ice cream in his hand.

"Want the rest of my ice cream?"

Lachlan's head raises, his face red and his voice slightly nasally as he protests halfheartedly, "But that's yours."

"Want you to have it, Lachy. I know your folks don't buy it that often."

Rob holds out the remains of his ice cream to Lachlan, and the latter takes it sheepishly, making Rob grin at his sudden shyness.

"Have I told you lately that you're my favourite cousin?" Lachlan mumbles around a mouthful of ice cream. Rob laughs, slapping Lachlan's arm lightly.

"Only when I give you things."

"Well, how else would you win my affection ?"

The ice cream disappears in record time and after Rob has teased Lachlan about whether his ability to inhale his food is something he should be concerned about or not, they get up and go a bit further down the beach, racing each other to finish lines that become more and more ridiculous, from the rock shaped like Marge Simpsons hair to, "That piece of seaweed." "Yes! I won!" "No, I meant this one, so _I_ won, actually, Robert."

When their (well, Rob's) legs can't take anymore running, they do the opposite, walking as slowly as possible as they scan the ground so they don't miss any of the best sea shells scattered throughout the sand, and sit down together with their feet dangling in a shallow rock pool as they spread their findings out between them; Rob pretends not to notice Lachlan sneakily tucking a few of Rob's prettiest shells into his fist and then his hoodie. The tide rises slowly at first, then suddenly is almost right upon them, and they have to run again to get back to their bikes before they're swallowed by the sea, Rob's legs protesting to the point where Lachlan has to drag him along, both of them laughing so hard they can barely stand up by the time they reach their bikes.

They ride back towards Lachlan's house together but when they reach Rob's turn off, they get off of their bikes and hug each other tightly, Lachlan holding on for what seems dear life, Rob unashamedly clinging just as hard because Rob has been busy with work lately and he doesn't know when he'll next get to see his favourite cousin, but he rides home under the street lights content with the knowledge that, if he knows himself at all, he'll make time.

**Author's Note:**

> okay cut me some slack I wrote this in like an hour but I really like it and yepyeppedyyep


End file.
